A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey
by pratz
Summary: Athrun, now a military instructor, tried to deal with his past and cope with his future with an irremovable factor named Cagalli in his life. Sequel to The Owl Policy. ::Complete::
1. Chapter 1

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: _Gundam SEED Destiny_ and its characters respectfully belong to Sunrise. The title is adapted from Anthony de Mello's _The Song of the Bird: A Coconut_. This is a non-profit work.

Sequel to _The Owl Policy_. Better read _TOP_ first before. More from Athrun's perspective than Cagalli's. Warnings for any possible OOC-ness and the absent of a proof-reader. Enjoy.

Notes: strange title yet again? Well, you'd just have to see why yet again...

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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—**First Part of Four—**

One thing Athrun was sure of was that he could cook just fine.

He noticed how Uzumi Nala Athha grimaced as the man heard his very daughter, his own previous caretaker and trusted comrade, stormed to the kitchen and later found her in the kitchen's doorway.

"Father."

Uzumi winced at the murderous, cold tone of her daughter's voice. "Yes?"

"I think I told you to make my guest feel like at home."

"Er—yes?"

"I think I just went for a while to get some things at the grocery and look what you've done."

"This," Athrun cut in, "is what makes me feel like home."

Annoyed, she glared at him. "Athrun Zala, let me remind you that we're here to celebrate your birthday. That includes your not touching my kitchen to do anything."

"You mean I have to just sit quietly and wait for the lunch to be served?"

"Exactly what I mean."

"Now that's boring." He reached for a bowl near him, scooping a spoon of vegetable stew he had just done making. "Besides, it's not like I can't amuse myself in your kitchen. Try?"

"This is—" half-chewing, Cagalli paused, looking like she was trying to find anything to say that would not fan his so-called arrogance. Athrun had had enough of it already, she once joked.

"Edible?" smirking proudly, he tried to suggest a word.

"Eatable."

He raised one elegant brow. "Cheat."

"No, I don't." She shoved him and his father altogether. "Now, get off."

"But, Cagalli darling—"

Now more irritated than ever, she glared more at Uzumi. "And, Father, please don't let my _guest_ come any nearer to _my_ kitchen again."

Uzumi, reluctantly admitting his not-so-welcome defeat, sighed and got a hold of Athrun's wheelchair. "Come, Zala-san."

He and Uzumi passed Lacus, who was on the way entering the kitchen, bringing the grocery bags Cagalli had shoved onto her arms earlier as she had heard the sounds coming from the kitchen. Smiling, Lacus bowed politely at them. He and Cagalli's best friend were not in the best term at the first time, but now it seemed that he was getting better in getting along.

But that did not mean he would show it nakedly to Lacus, however.

"She's banning you two from the kitchen?"

"Actually, I just happen to get a piece of her temper."

"Father, I hear that!"

"Better go now, Lacus." Uzumi laughed a little, pushing his wheelchair to accomplish her daughter's command.

_Command?_ Athrun thought. _Well, that's not new. Cagalli always get what she wants_.

Not that he had any objection against that, anyway.

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"Here you are."

Athrun turned his head around to see her standing next to Kira's wardrobe. Probably he had forgotten to close the door after him.

"Hiding yourself on your own birthday?"

He did not catch her bait and put his attention back to the big poster on the wall.

"When it's taken?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. I wasn't a model to pose, and even if I were, I wouldn't wear my red uniform for publicity."

His gaze did not waver when theirs met, and she smiled, soft and understandingly. The Athrun Zala on Kira's poster was the Red Baron (1) he was once. Prodigal, dauntless, and strong. The red uniform was a proof enough.

She slipped quietly behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Dignity?"

"We don't wear red for nothing," he said, calm and collected as ever. "The Special Unit, that is. Loyalty and Integrity."

"Oh, I know that slogan. Kira told me." Her elbows were on his shoulder now, yet not digging in too much into his flesh.

He affirmatively hummed low, but did not make any sound for a while, before, "Cagalli?"

"Hm?"

"The lunch was pleasant. Thank you."

Just like that and he let her knew that he was delighted to have his birthday celebrated, delighted to be in the middle of her family's warmth, delighted to have a merry lunch and delighted to have her caring for him. It was one thing being thirty, but it was another thing to celebrate it after going through hard events in life.

"You're welcome."

"And why is that your brother gives me an entrance ticket of Paris Airshow for a birthday present, if I may know?" He moved a little so he could look at her face while still staying in the loose, semi-embrace.

Chuckling, she answered, "For you know, he's even mulled over giving you your own portrait. He didn't want to alternate his choice until I insisted on it yesterday."

"My own portrait!" He could not help but joining her in amused chuckling. "As if I don't have even one on my own. But say my thanks to him. It's nice, though."

"What do you expect? He's my brother."

"Of course. It runs in the blood, doesn't it? The stubborn treat?"

"And you are arrogant. Prideful. And temperamental."

"Yet you've been dealing with that arrogant, prideful, and temperamental man for almost two year." _And hopefully will not get bored of it_, he added silently. "Tell me why you forbade me from your kitchen."

"No, I tried to get rid of you from my kitchen."

Athrun rolled his eyes in half mocking expression. "It's my birthday, anyway. Shouldn't you be, say, nicer to me?"

"Nicer? Eat my tongue."

"Oh, I'd prefer to eat my stew." He winced as one of her elbows dig itself into his collarbone.

"I know it."

"Huh?"

"Somehow, I've known you _can_ cook. Guess you're just tricking me into cooking for you almost all the time."

Cagalli was not the best person one might try to get advantage of, let alone to play around with, and Athrun knew it. If she let someone get that close to her to the point of 'tricking,' it proved more than anything that that someone was special.

The silly thought brought a small smile to his lips.

Well, it was not like he had done anything to get advantage of her or play around with her or even trick her, anyway.

"You're really a nice person, Cagalli."

At first he thought she might want to say: 'Of course. Can't let a war veteran starve to death, aren't I? A trouble maker I may be, but definitely not a killer!' But Athrun read deeper, really, and he would just have known what she was trying to cover.

Cagalli just sighed, finally smiling, wistful and soft so ever.

"Cagalli, Father sa—oops. Sorry..."

Turning around, Cagalli glared at her brother for having such a perfect timing to show up. She let go of him abruptly, and he, though half-heartily, suppressed the urge to nicely throw something at the innocent brown-haired teen.

"What?"

"Father calls you."

Grumbling in annoyance, she stomped her way out of Kira's room to get to Uzumi.

"Sorry I intruded you personal privacy."

Blinking, Athrun stared at the now clumsy teen. Should not he be the one who apologized? "For what? This is your room." Athrun's gesture made an explanation that he should have asked permission to enter Kira's room first. "I should be the one to say sorry."

"A-ah, it's okay. I'm really sorry, Athrun-san." Kira shuddered at the memory of his sister's dreadful glare. "Cagalli's so going to kill me..."

_Oh. That_.

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Of all things, Athrun never identified, much less personified, himself with the term of a romantic man. Hell, he spent most time of his life in military service, the so-called duty to serve the country and its people. When he had a hold of a gun, how could he think of being a nice lover? How could he was able to think of loving his enemy when he was ready to shoot?

Yet, that afternoon, he found himself together with the first and maybe the only woman he would put his trust upon at the beach, watching the sunset.

"Athrun."

"Hm?"

At this point, she grew serious and quiet, and Athrun silently realized something had bothered her.

"You won't get any trouble there?"

"They'll provide a pair of artificial legs for me. I guess it can't be worse."

"And the term—"

"—is until the unit really deserves to wear the red uniform."

She bit her lower lip, planning her words for a while, then, "This is what you want."

Ah. He knew it. Athrun the pilot could only exist in the world of his own—in the air. Flying was the life of Athrun the pilot. Cagalli knew he would do anything in his ability to be able to go to the home he loved much.

Even if it meant to momentarily part from precious things he had gained the last two years.

"Yes."

She shrugged her petit shoulders, as if uncaring, but he knew her better. "Then I'll support you with my own way."

"And your way is..."

Wordlessly, she took off her own necklace, a simple one with a red stone pendant, and donned it around his neck. He knew how precious it was to her, a remembrance of her late mother, and he was glad to receive such honour from her—as a friend, a partner, and maybe a lot more.

Cagalli bent down to kiss his forehead softly, in a very affectionate way that made him want to hold her very close. Somehow, he did not do it. He could not, anyway, because if he did, he would not want to let go then.

"Take care, Athrun, because I won't be there for you."

Perhaps it was because he was used to her presence that he was almost reluctant to go, but this was his life for all he knew. This was not a sappily romantic movie; she did not beg him to stay, and he did not change his mind to pursue his once betaken life. That was how adults cope with the realistic world.

They went back together to the Athha House with her behind him as usual. There was a faint ache in his heart as he recognized the sudden want to be the one who walked beside her.

Before they entered the house, she stopped, moving to face him and smile. "Silly Athrun," she said. "You don't have to think about it, really."

"About?"

"That I'm going to stop being beside you."

Athrun was quiet for a moment, before, "Are you sure you're not a mind reader?"

"No, I'm a clairvoyant." She rolled her eyes. "We've promised, remember? I won't walk out from your life, and you," her eyes squinted suspiciously, "won't walk out from my life, will you?"

_Of course not_. "Hn."

"Good."

They had promised each other. Cagalli was not a person who would break her promise easily, and he was a man of his word. They would be alright.

_Yes_, he thought, _we'd be alright_.

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(1) Manfred von Richtoven, a German ace of World War I. He's said to be one of the best ace pilots in the air battle history. The real Red Baron was awarded the highest German military honor of the time, the Pour le Merite. Von Richtoven was shot down and killed by ground fire on April 21, 1918. Since ZAFT's special units wear red uniform, I take the chance to use the name for Athrun. So sorry I just happen to explain about it just now, and no, I won't let anyone shoot Athrun down...


	2. Chapter 2

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: Tomino-sensei, Sunrise, and Bandai as always

Notes: Big thanks to dearest Fledgling for proofreading this fic and for you readers. Have anyone heard the rumour about Sunrise's going to make _Seed 3_? Well, recalling the quality of _G-Seed Destiny_'s story, I don't have a big knack for _G-Seed 3_, but if that's what they want, let it be so. May they give us more and more Athrun... Well, that's all for this time. Do enjoy your stay and do give me any feedback. Sankyu.

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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**Second Part of Four**

In his era, the Zala Squadron was one of the best, if not the best itself, fighting unit in the air force. Thus, with that same pride and dignity, the commanding officer of the squadron was to be a good example in every possible way. He was supposed to be on top even in a chess game, for example.

Yet, Athrun Zala realized that things changed, and so did the air force and even his squadron.

"I'm not so sure if it's appropriate, but welcome back," said one of his former comrades, Dearka Elthman, in greeting. "It's been a long time."

Athrun nodded once, still not impressed with the way the air force had arranged his squadron. "Let's just get to business. When can I see my class?"

Smirking, Dearka eyed his comrade for a while. "You already got one?"

"Yes, no thanks to those men above."

"Ah. A smart ass as ever, I see," he grinned, friendly enough if not irritating. "Your class will start from tomorrow on."

Across the table, Yzak snorted mildly, trying not to lose his patience in this game of chess as he listened to their conversation.

"Could you tell my class to get me at the landing anvil first thing tomorrow morning?"

Raising a pawn and stopping in midair, Yzak threw him a look. "You're not allowed to be there—_yet_."

"I'll do what I think it's right to do. And Dearka," he glanced at the man next to them, "I'd be thankful if you tell the students of my class _now_. Thank you."

"Right away, _sir_."

"You don't have the permission, _Instructor_ Zala."

Athrun moved his knight, making Yzak's defence open for attack. "It's my class, Jule, and I'm responsible for all of its activities."

Though closer to cursing, Yzak only mumbled some nonsensical words under his breath. "Fine. I'll have your words then."

"And checkmate."

Yzak's eyes widened in disbelief. Really cursing now, he scowled even more. Athrun only smiled, lightly, pleased that maybe some things just never changed at all.

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"You're cruel, you know."

Looking up at Dearka, Athrun closed his folder. "Really?"

"The way you finished Yzak off on the chess game yesterday." Dearka gave him a hard pat on the back. "And you're putting Yzak in a difficult position. 'My class and my responsibility', eh? Man, you're really something..."

"Dearka?"

"Yes?"

"I'll appreciate you even more if you just shut up."

Said man only laughed. "You'll know what kind of class yours is. Don't be surprised."

"I'm not a man who could be surprised easily."

"Even when you have Shinn Asuka in your class?"

Athrun considered his words for a while, then, "I've read his files."

"He's beyond measure, I tell you."

"That's," Athrun patted Dearka's arm before he pushed a button, opening the door to the landing anvil, "for me to know, isn't it?"

Dearka left behind the closed door, and Athrun's class all but jumped to greet him good morning formally. He nodded briefly to acknowledge them and then sat down on the only chair there—since it was the landing anvil, pray tell.

"Who's the head of this class?"

A blond-haired boy raised his hand immediately. "Sir."

Sitting on his self-claimed chair, he watched the blond lower his hand. "Name."

"Sir. Rey Za Burrel, sir."

"Thank you." From the corner of his eyes, he watched a sour-faced boy grumble quietly. That was Shinn Asuka, if he was not mistaken, though he had only known the boy from the photograph on his file. "Now, I want you to tell me your names. Start from you." It was just a small test, really; he actually did not need their names. He could remember data from the first time he read them.

The ever angry-looking boy, Shinn Asuka, seemed bored. Had it been another instructor in his place right now, Athrun wondered, would he have yawned?

_A wonderful smack of juvenile delinquency_, he thought. _Ah, no. Such a thing is not allowed in the Special Unit_.

"I see. Now, anything you want to ask me?"

Hands rose quickly. _Do I look like a politician on the run?_ Deciding that it would do him no harm to have a good start with his students, he answered each question as best as he could. They ranged from his method to his experience—these ones he answered briefly for his regard for the squadron.

Shinn Asuka raised his hand, looking more uninterested than ever.

"Yes?"

"Sir. What do you expect from us, sir?"

Sharp and blunt; a perfect qualification for a so-called troublemaker. Athrun almost smiled as he remembered Shinn's data from his previous reading. "Who's your former instructor?"

"Sir. Major (1) Heine Westenfluss, sir."

"What did Major Westenfluss expect from you?"

"Sir. The Major wanted us to be a great fighting unit based on loyalty and integrity."

"Integrity, yes." Athrun stood from his chair and walked toward Shinn. "However, Shinn," he watched the boy stiffen when he called him by his given name, "you can't be a member of a great unit if you're no good. Be good first; then be great."

"Sir. Yes, sir."

Hiding a smile, he patted the boy's shoulder. Stubbornness had always been an important part of a great soldier, after all. "First of all, we need to straighten few things before I tell you my expectation. Westenfluss—no—_Heine_ told me that in this class, everyone is to call each other by given names (2)." Some of his class grimaced. "That'll become my rule also. You all may call me as your commanding officer outside, but in my class, it's Athrun for you."

His class gawked.

"You've problem with that?" He went back to his chair.

"Sir! No, sir."

"Good. Now, my expectations..." Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Athrun drew an even breath and exhaled softly. "I want you all to be a great unit. Good is enough for those who don't have plans. Good is normal, and normal isn't enough for those who have the chance to be more. I _want_ you to be great."

His class was quiet—more dazzled than amazed.

"Maybe you're wondering why I'm telling you this on the first day, but I'll be honest with you. I don't have that much time. I'll be your instructor only for a term. That's a short time, and I won't allow even a single moment to let your talents go to waste."

A raising hand cut him from continuing further yet. "Yes, Lunamaria?"

"Sir. It's Luna, sir."

This time, he gave them a quick sincere smile. "And no more sirs, okay? Yes, Luna?"

"Si—Colonel Athrun. What are we going to do from now on?"

"What, you say? We're going to be a great unit, of course."

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That day, his morning started with a call on his cell phone.

"Zala's speaking," he mumbled, still floating between sleepiness and awareness.

"Morning, Colonel."

His head almost hit the top bookshelf above his bunk. "Cagalli?"

"Do you expect anyone else?" a cheerful voice from the other side answered. "How're your days?"

"Well, it ranges from pleasant to annoying."

"Ah." There was a soft sigh. "I guess it's good, then?"

Now half-sitting, Athrun rolled his blankets off his body. "You could say so."

"Athrun," she said, hesitation clear in her voice, "I saw you on the air force official website."

He had a good feeling he knew where this conversation would lead to, and he did not really like it. "So?"

"Uh—I'm just wondering why you—oh, never mind."

"Why I what?"

"Why you," Cagalli sighed again, "uhm—never told me about—er—your... condition."

Somehow, he just knew that this would come along. Damn the air force for putting the news of his return to be an instructor in the academy, complete with a body-length picture of him.

A picture where he walked in a corridor, an exoskeleton of metal strips gracing his legs and a pair of crutches for assistance.

"Well, it's kind of difficult to walk around with wheelchair here," he said, reluctantly trying to give a logical answer. "Anyways, what did it say about me?" He hoped she didn't mind him changing the topic.

"Oh, does 'Baron Comes Home' sound okay for you?"

Laughing a little, he switched the phone to his other ear. "I'm sure it's a good welcome party for whatever Baron they're talking about."

"Ah, do you have class today?"

"Mm, not so soon. It's later, at 9AM." He heard a faint sound of something cracking. "What's that?"

"Oh, I'm making breakfast here. French toast."

He glanced at the clock above the door. One hour until his teaching schedule. "Is it alright if I call you later? Evening, I think."

"Alright. See you, then."

"Hn."

Later on, he thought that the image of Cagalli, cooking and calling him just to have some morning chats, did not feel so bad. Not bad _at all_.

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Shooting class had always been his favourite when he was still in the academy. The Special Unit, the Red that was, demanded its men to be more than just good pilots from time to time. Its motto, Loyalty and Integrity, stood up proudly in the air force history, shouldered by the best shoulders and leaders.

That was why he frowned as he watched over his class on today's shooting class.

"What's with him?"

Heine Westenfluss, who was currently off duty, took off his ear set and blinked. "Who?"

"Shinn. I don't see any good in him as one of the candidates for the Special Unit in this class."

Heine winced slightly at Athrun's chosen words. "Uh—don't you think your words are just too strong?"

Athrun shifted his weight to his right side. "Depends on whose taste. I don't have any problem with that."

"You and your pride," Heine muttered, loud enough for Athrun to hear yet quiet enough to be private. "Uh—got buffed in self-defence class, I hear."

"I see." _Now that's interesting_. "Let me try," he said to a soldier standing closest to him, who quickly hand the gun to him. Putting on his ear set, he mumbled, "Never in life have I let myself act childishly."

It was quite difficult to shoot with the crutches on both of his sides, but a minute later, the electronic scoreboard on his booth showed his score; 99.2.

Lunamaria, occupying the booth next to his, stared in awe. "Wow, even Rey couldn't score that high."

Giving the gun back to its previous user, Athrun took off his ear set. "Scores, like you all see, don't matter in a battle. If you don't shoot right on the target, you're shot. You're off the game. That's all that matters. Class is dismissed." From the corner of his eyes, he saw Shinn got ready to leave, too. "Shinn, you stay."

Heine just rolled his eyes. As the present commanding officer for the Squadron Zala, he had no authority to stick his nose in academic matters. "I'll see you later, Athrun."

"Yes, Heine, thank you." He indicated that he wanted Shinn to come with him. "To my office, Shinn."

The boy followed him quietly. Sitting down across Athrun, he waited for the instructor to begin the talk.

"Having a bad day, Shinn?"

"Sir. No, sir."

Athrun leaned over the table, all appearing intimidating and dominating, just as he wanted to seem like. "You are not to lie around me. I'm not an instructor for nothing. I've seen—and done—battles more than you. I know whether a soldier is on his top form or not, and I know you're not right now. I want every single person in my class to pay attention, to pay a great deal of concentration for every class. There is absolutely no exception." He pulled back again, leaning on his chair. "Trouble with your right shoulder, I see?"

"Sir—"

"_Athrun_, Shinn."

"No... Athrun." The boy seemed to get himself accustomed to the name rolled on his tongue.

"Messing around with Dearka?"

"I have no problem with Major Elthman, really."

Athrun decided that he was not going to break Shinn's already sour mood. He was, after all, a soldier who knew when to pick up trouble and when to avoid one. "I take it you're really alright, then?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome."

The door of his office closed as Shinn took his leave, and Athrun was left alone to think.

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Yzak was already there when he arrived at the military cemetery. He acknowledged the silver-haired man by simply nodding once.

"It's been three years," Yzak said, a melancholic tone in his voice.

Athrun knew what his comrade was talking about. "Yes."

"Here, let me put that down for you."

Athrun gave the bouquet of flowers he had been holding; it would be very disrespectful to throw it before the grave just because he was unable to squat down. The bouquet laid in silence together with the previous one from Yzak.

"Time's changing, isn't it?"

"Hn."

"You know," Yzak quietly spoke, "I'll be promoted by the end of this term."

"Congratulations, then."

"As an advisor to the Military Board for Parliament."

"Oh. Clyne?"

Yzak exhaled softly. "I couldn't help but thinking of some old geezer who wants me off the air."

"Damn them."

"Yeah, damn them." Yzak looked up to the sky. "I... can't just go, Zala. I simply can't."

Athrun did not say anything to respond for he knew the feeling himself. What was a pilot if he could not fly, after all?

Yet, he was also a realistic man. As things changed, so did the society. People wanted—no, _demanded_—a bigger concession for the so-called civil society. The military, which had the privilege of being one of the humblest servants of the country, had to stay off the circle. Simply put, the military was not of no importance, but it had to go back to the barracks nevertheless.

"And here I wonder why Dullindal didn't do anything."

Athrun, having been and still being in the same circle with Yzak, knew fully well what the main problem was.

"Oh, haven't you met his stepson?"

"I don't recall any cadet by his name."

"Za Burrel."

"Oh."

Silence reigned for a while until this: "I'm not going to surrender. We're the Red." Yzak stated firmly. "We're not good at surrendering."

"That I know." Athrun smiled, though lightly, for the first time in that evening. "Yes, we are."

Yzak left first, driving by himself like always. Athrun watched until his comrade's car was lost from the view before he turned around to leave the cemetery. Lunamaria, voluntarily taking the act to be his driver that evening, glanced up from her magazine as she saw him walk to her direction.

"You're done, Colonel?"

"Yes." Opening the front door of the car, he put his crutches first at the back seat before he sat down.

The way back to the academy was spent in silence until Lunamaria wanted to know if she could ask him something.

"Shinn is not a bad soldier."

Athrun turned to her, both brows raised in curiosity. Never had he imagined the girl to be as blunt as the subject she mentioned. _Well, it simply confirms that one should never judge a book by its cover_. "Is that your question?"

"Well, at least I want you, as our new commanding instructor, to know that."

"Why should I know that?"

Lunamaria turned the car to the left. "I think it's just fair to look at something not only from one window."

"Whose window?"

"Other instructors' and ours."

"I don't see anything bad regarding him—at least, not yet."

"Colonel, Shinn has some troubles with authority, but that doesn't mean he'll blindly turn against authority."

"Against me, you mean?"

Lunamaria seemed to consider her words, before she answered, "He adores you."

_Not this again_. He had had enough. "If you pay enough attention to what I've said in the class, Luna, I think you'd know that I have no business with favouritism and admiration. I don't care who your parents are, and I don't care where you come from. Any of you. What I want to see is that my class really deserves the big hopes."

"Yes, Colonel."

He sighed, suddenly feeling much older. "You want me to sympathize with him, don't you?"

"I want him to be understood and not be judged by his appearance only. That's only fair."

Shaking his head, a bit amused, he smiled. "Kids these days."

Lunamaria smiled along. "By all mean, Colonel, we're no ordinary kids. We want to be the best, just like you've said."

Whatever he wanted to tell her, it had to wait, for the cell phone in his breast pocket suddenly vibrated. He gestured to Lunamaria for her to excuse him. "Zala's speaking."

"Uhm—hi. Thought I'd be giving you a call now."

Knowing that it was Cagalli, he did not know whether to feel relief or not. "Ah. Sorry. I forgot to call you sooner. I still have some... matters to tend to. I'll call you in five minutes, alright?" He waited until the blond girl ended the call first, mainly because he didn't want to feel any guiltier.

"Your relatives?"

"No." Not bothering to show Lunamaria his face, he reached for his crutches at the back seat. "I'd be thankful if you could pull off the road for a while."

"If it's what you want, Colonel."

The car pulled off the road, but before he had the chance to open his door, Lunamaria opened the door on her side and got off quickly. Knocking on the window twice, she hinted that she would be the one to wait outside instead of him. Annoyed or understanding that it was much easier to her than to him to get off, he did not know.

He dialled the number he had grown to remember well. "Cagalli."

"Mm. Serious matters?"

"No, it's just—" he paused, not wanting to tell her about all the details yet. "I'm just tired. That's all."

"You sound upset."

"Eh?"

"N-no—I m-mean, I think—at least I do think—you seem upset."

He saw Lunamaria outside with her back against the window. "I visited my men's graves."

"Oh. Sorry. I... didn't know."

"Don't be sorry." He was a military man, an outfield soldier, placed in the seat of an instructor, he realized. Sometimes he thought that it was impossible to leave this part of his life all behind, but sometimes he also wondered what he would be if he stayed. _The last of the Mohicans, eh? I wonder what good it'll bring me.._. "Cagalli, do you believe in living the life you want it to be?"

"E-eh?" she stuttered, sounding a bit surprised. "Why so sudden?"

"Never mind," he said, immediately brushing it off. His problem would stay his own and his alone. He had never been dependent on anyone else; surely it would not begin today. "You're doing well, I suppose?"

She kept silent before calling his name softly, "Athrun?"

"Hn?"

"You miserably fail to convince me to never mind anything you've said, you know."

Cagalli sounded wistful, a bit sad—why should she?—and yet he could imagine her trying to smile, thin, though in reality she wanted to slap him hard on the head and snap him out of it. Exhaling a soft sigh, he smiled at the imagination. However, even he could not believe himself as his mouth blurted out the words:

"I miss you."

Seconds later, he cursed himself. _Just great, Athrun Zala. Blurting out stupidly like you're a middle-scholar hopelessly falls in sick infatuation_.

He had hoped that she had been unable to catch his words. He had hoped that his voice had been too soft for her to hear. He had hoped that she—

"...I miss you, too."

Ten minutes later when they arrived at the academy, Lunamaria asked him if he was feeling any better. He looked happier and much more at ease than before, she answered when he asked why she asked so.

He did not need to think twice to know the truth, though.

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Notes:

01. In the army, it's _lieutenant commander_, but I happen to know that the air force uses _major_ (the rank precisely before lieutenant colonel).

02. Surely in the military business they don't call people by given names, right? But it's Athrun, so I give him a big bunch of tolerance.


	3. Chapter 3A

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: _Gundam SEED Destiny_ and its characters respectfully belong to Sunrise. The title is adapted from Anthony de Mello's _The Song of the Bird: A Coconut_. The song is Sarah McLachlan's. This is a non-profit work.

Notes: all thanks to Fledgling for betaing and much-much-much more, because if it's not because of you, I'll be just a giant puddle of mistakes.

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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**First Half of the Third Part of Four**

To be honest, Athrun kind of disliked surprises. He was more of a man of planned life, a man who did everything based on what he had decided carefully beforehand. Surprise just tended to be a rusty pothole in his road of life, and he was more than willing to fill it up, no matter how hard he had to try.

That was why he preferred to think that the visit he got that morning was not a surprise.

"Colonel Gladys."

The woman wearing a mild smile before him nodded to acknowledge him. "It's been two years, Athrun."

"I heard you've a tough desk job in Gibraltar." He half-smiled back. "What do I owe you for this honour?"

Amused at his sharp enquiry as always, Colonel Talia Gladys raised an eyebrow. "I see there's no point in being dishonest with you, so I'd like to invite you to tea this evening. Will you come?"

"In the Goddess?"

"Unfortunately no, since this is an off-duty visit. In Colonel Jule's office."

From the tone his former commanding officer used, he could catch such a thrill beneath the offer she gave him. Yes, thrill—and everything that gave him a thrill was worth an attempt. He had a feeling that her invitation had not only meant to share some old times.

So he put on a confident smile and answered, "I'd be honoured to come."

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"She what?"

"Asked me to bring my three best students to the Goddess by this time tomorrow and yes, you heard me right."

"And you say yes?"

"I'm interested; that's all."

Dearka whistled once. "First, it's an off-duty visit. Then she made you look like a yesterday's boy. That woman sure can kick."

Annoyed at Dearka's chosen words, Athrun threw him a look. "She absolutely didn't make me look like a yesterday boy."

"Bleh, like I'll believe you anyway. You do realize that there's only a small number of superiors who can get your full attention, don't you?"

Athrun tidied his folders, feeling a headache coming up like a train. "I'm only a temporary instructor. It's up to Heine who's going with me tomorrow."

His friend laughed a little at his words. "You say that, but it's a fact that it's _you_ who's invited to the Goddess—not Heine. You're really a smart, arrogant ass."

"Well, it's better than being a stupid ass."

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Until his last battle in Anatolia two years ago, Athrun had been in the embrace of this goddess. He had known her inside out, and when a melancholic memory hit him as he stood before her in the hangar, he dismissed it quickly. He was trying to let go, and bringing up bitter memories would do him no good.

HMS Minerva. The main mother ship of the military. His home for more than three years back, when he was still an active military member.

"I'm glad you're coming."

He shook the hand he had in his. "Westenfluss has placed all the responsibility on me, so I hope you won't try to make me bother you here."

Chuckling, she tightened the hold she had on his hand. "Now I wonder what others say about you for merely coming today."

"Dearka said I'm your yesterday's boy."

"Why, this boy of mine's already stepped higher than me." The colonel let go of his hand, still smiling. "Welcome home, Athrun."

"Back, not home."

He followed the colonel into the ship. Watching the hectic life of the staff through the doors and corridors, he thought to himself that nothing had changed. He could even see the window where he had once written a short maxim, next to the corridor to the hangar.

Talia watched him eye the scratched window. "Sometimes being sentimental is fundamental for your own good."

"I'm _not_ being sentimental."

"Yo, Zala!"

He turned to see a bulky, dark-skinned man running in his direction, his face familiar. "Maddock?"

Laughing boisterously, the man came to a halt and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Man, I _knew_ Colonel Gladys would bring you back!"

"Maddock, not so hard there..." Wincing, he felt one of his exoskeleton sets dig itself painfully into his left calf.

"Oh... sorry." Maddock could not help but spotting the gadget on Athrun's legs. "Anyway, it's nice to see you back here, you know."

"Hm."

"Hey, let's have dinner together, okay?"

He simply uttered a short gratitude to Maddock and was glad when Talia got his subtle sign to continue their walk.

"You can take more time to say hi to him if you want."

"You know I don't come for chit-chatting. Besides," pausing meaningfully, Athrun gripped his crutches a bit tighter, "you have something important you want to discuss, don't you?"

As he stopped walking, she turned around to face him, serious for the first time. "What gave you that idea?"

"Because," Athrun said, unable to help the smirk that came on its own accord, "there's no way a commanding officer would come by herself, to pick up a civilian just for sharing old times." _See? There's no surprise here_.

Sighing, Talia donned a thin, knowing smile. "...I'm glad I've never faced you as an enemy in a battle."

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"Why are you telling me this?"

His past battles repeated themselves in his mind, and he remembered the red uniform he was so proud of inside his closet back home. And his bleak days in the hospital as the only survivor of his squadron. And his days when he could see nothing but darkness. And his retirement. And Sergeant.

And Cagalli and her owl story.

The colonel struggled with the edge of her hat before answering. "It's because of the same reason why I don't want to have you as an enemy."

He did not wait any longer to excuse himself from her office.

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As if his headache was not frustrating enough, a new problem greeted him just by the time he stepped on the hangar.

"Zala, what students you have there."

He threw a sour look at Maddock. "What the hell happened here?"

"Simulation."

"_Simulation_," he repeated in an uptight voice. "I don't remember giving any permit for any simulation."

"Hey, loosen up," Maddock said, grinning. "After all, your students do well."

He shrugged Maddock's hand off his shoulder, slipping through the barricade of the audience before the window of the cockpit simulation room. Inside the room, on each booth, sat his three students, handling the challenge thrown at them in the team-tag battle simulation. On the screen, Athrun could read three other names, the opponents of his students.

His frown deepened as he recalled the familiar names. _Phantom Pain?_

All of sudden, a member of the opposing team stood up, taking off his helmet. "You beginner! What kind of tactic's that?!"

Shinn took off his own helmet as well, calmly letting go of the paddle on his simulator booth. "Oh, you call that a tactic? I think we're just playing around, ne, Rey?"

"Shinn," Rey admonished quietly.

Athrun knocked on the window, demanding attention from the six people inside the simulation room. Lunamaria was the first to recognize him, scrambling hastily to get the door.

"I want an explanation."

"Sir." Lunamaria responded meekly.

"Now, now," A new voice cut through their conversation. "Look who we have here."

From the corner of his eye, Athrun saw two boys and a blonde girl, coming from behind Rey's back.

"The Red Baron... isn't he?" the blonde girl said, swiftly hiding herself behind her tallest teammate as Athrun turned to look at her.

"Phantom Pain," Athrun stated, noticing a certain emblem on the three's sleeves. "I don't know that your squadron is here."

"Of course you don't know. We've been here for a year while you're in your rehabilitation," said the other boy from the Phantom Pain.

Furious, Shinn abruptly rushed closer to the boy. "You—"

Athrun halted Shinn's movement by shifting his left arm; the crutch did not allow him to move his hand freely. "Stop it."

The tallest of the three Phantom Pain members stepped forward. "Sir. Forgive our impoliteness, Sir. We're just practising a team-tag simulation together."

Athrun read the nametag on the boy's chest. Oakley it read. "If that's so, then I should thank you for giving my students a chance to team-tag the famous Phantom Pain."

"The pleasure is all ours, but of course," the boy named Oakley smirked, "your students still have lots to catch up on."

"I'd take that as a good input from pilots of the higher rank, but I don't think a pilot as good as you would ever forget the first article of the self-empowerment rules from your training day." Athrun elated in the bemused look on the boy's face. "Know your limit. Never fly too high, or else you'd experience the real flying-to-heaven moment."

With that, he slid in to the simulation room, his three students following close behind.

"Rey scored 97.1 out of 100 percent—a little lower than your latest accuracy score, and as a commander, you planned a move that'd confuse the enemy's bottom line. Shinn did a sudden manoeuvre in the middle of the battle, charging Luna to make an intercept through the enemy's bottom line. That surprised them and Shinn attacked the bewildered enemies, but eventually Lunamaria's unit got shot on the catapult engine, causing the unit to stop all of its movement."

"That's beyond words." Lunamaria awed, admiring Athrun's insightful scrutiny of their team-tag simulation.

"Fair so," Shinn drawled shrewdly then turned to face Athrun. "You sure you've ever been blind?"

Turning to face Shinn, Athrun turned off the simulation equipment. "You're not the commanding officer in the battle. You're supposed to follow Rey's order."

"I did what I thought was the best."

"You're responsible for the middle line of the formation," Athrun said in low, dangerous tone. "You have the responsibility of covering both the right and left sides while protecting the bottom line at the same time."

"I was supporting the top line."

"That's not your responsibility."

"I couldn't let the top line collapse all alone."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Athrun," Rey cut in, "and I admit that Shinn's decision's a bit hasty, but it worked."

"This is a team-tag!" he almost bellowed. "If you're responsible for the safety of a mother ship, you're allowed to forgo a unit or two, but this is a team-tag. A single member down, and it could be your death next. Don't you understand the meaning of attacking while protecting at the same time?"

"You said it yourself. A commanding officer has the right to decide what to do."

"I think that's enough," Lunamaria cut them all off. "With all due respect, Athrun, you're taking this all too seriously. It's a simulation, and even I know that _I_ won't do such a risky thing in a real battle. Besides, they're the Phantom Pain. What do you expect from the best present squadron's performance? They're capable of handling a problem like Rey's plan; that's why Shinn decided to make a sudden manoeuvre. We get your point, and we understand, alright?"

_No. You don't understand. You don't understand anything at all._

_You don't understand how it feels to watch your men down one by one_.

"It doesn't matter if we lose one or two units," Shinn mumbled, loud enough for Athrun to hear. "We may lose the battle, but we win the war."

Athrun's fist landed precisely, painfully on his jaw.

"Bastard!" Enraged, Shinn, still half-wobbling, rushed to hit Athrun back, but Rey quickly held him the time he leapt forward.

"Calling your superior with such a name is a major blunder." Athrun's hand still felt hot from hitting his own student. That was the first time he hit someone out of fury for all he could remember—not even a foe in the past had received his pent-up anger like that, but the remembrance of his late men would never let him do nothing about Shinn. "Now I think I know why that Oakley boy called you a beginner."

Or maybe he was not made to have even a little peace of mind at all.

"I don't care! You want a fight, I'll give you one!"

Athrun kept quiet for a while, silently counting to ten to bridle his anger. This was definitely not his lucky day—though he did not believe in luck at all.

"Athrun, this incident's all my fault. I'm responsible for the three of us."

Shinn with his brazen and stubborn confidence; Rey with his dependable and tacit leadership; Lunamaria with her honest and unwavering trust. Why was it that all of his students reminded him of the man he had been once? The fact that he was learning to accept that said man was evolving into someone he was today did hardly help to ease his befuddled mind.

_Come on, Athrun. You've promised to get over the Red Baron_.

"There's no need to," he said, waving Rey's avowal off. "Just don't let my expectation of your bringing me more trouble until tomorrow turn to ashes."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I tell you, we're scheduled to have a real field team-tag battle with the Phantom Pain."

"Wh—"

"To my quarter. Now. All of you."

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He spent fifteen minutes to explain the deal of the simulation battle with the Phantom Pain and another good ten minutes to answer his students' questions. In the end, Rey, the brain of the team, tried to make a conclusion and tactic for tomorrow based on the Phantom Pain's data they have collected just before. Shinn got sulkier and sulkier every time Athrun made eye contact with him, and Lunamaria had this kind of 'please-do-not-prolong-this-stupid-situation-any-longer expression on her face.

"Any special expectations for tomorrow, Athrun?"

He contemplated for any special one but found nothing in the end. "Just don't make a mess."

Shinn grumbled at that, and Lunamaria chuckled earnestly. "That's an expectation?"

"A wish, actually."

Even Rey had a small smile on his lips now.

"Oh, and one more thing," he raised a hand from the armrest, "I'm allowed to give you counsel when you're on the simulation."

"Counsel?"

"More like a second opinion of your tactic. No direct guidance is allowed, though." He reached for his crutches he had placed beside his desk earlier and rose up. "Now, if there's nothing more you want to ask, I'll excuse myself and have my well-deserved dinner. We'll meet again at 9 PM to discuss your plan for tomorrow."

"Hungry?" Lunamaria tilted her head, smiling widely.

"Starving."

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Maddock's beaming grin greeted him as he entered the dinning quarter. Whispers and curious glances followed him even until he seated himself on Maddock's table.

"You're still popular here, you know."

"Though not all of the news here is good news."

"Oh? Something get on your nerves?"

"With your superior? Yes. With the air force staff here? Yes. With my own students? Yes. I don't know if I can have any more than these."

Maddock patted his shoulder sympathetically. "We from the maintenance division are having a little party tonight. Maybe you'd like to join, to forget your not-so-happy day a little."

"What party? I didn't know a party was allowed on board."

"Well, it's not really a party. It's just a merrymaking to welcome the new members on our division."

"New staff? Youngsters?"

"Why, Zala? I didn't know you were interested in—oh, here they are!" Maddock shifted in his chair to greet the coming group of staff. "Yo! Over here, guys!"

"Do we have a guest, Lieutenant?"

Whirling his chair around so fast that he almost lost his balance, Athrun could not believe his own eyes when he saw the familiar someone before him.

"Ath—run?"

That got to be a biggest miracle today—yes, miracle; because there was no such a thing like surprise in his dictionary.

"Cagalli?"

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	4. Chapter 3B

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: Gundam Seed Destiny and its characters respectfully belong to Sunrise. The title is adapted from Anthony de Mello's _The Song of the Bird: A Coconut_. The song is Sarah McLachlan's. This is a non-profit work.

Notes: about the heavy political content on this part... I take this from our current world situation, where unilateralism and military power are believed to be an effective way to solve the so-called civilization problems and such. Do you think I'm being very political here? I just hope this matter won't disturb the plot of the story, because it's here only for the purpose of the story.

And trucks of thanks to Fledgling for being such a wonderful beta.

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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**Second Half of the Third Part of Four**

Given that he only said "Watch for the front line and let Shinn intercept from the middle line," the team-tag simulation ran pretty better than he had expected. Rey was in his top condition—as a commander and strategist, Lunamaria did great as the supporting Alamo and his darling boy Shinn made the surprise of the day by actually kicking Oakley's unit in a man-to-man Pugachev's Cobra (1) manoeuvre.

Colonel Neo Lorrnoke, the commanding officer for the Phantom Pain, approached him by the time the simulation ended, congratulating him briefly. "I suppose with this your students will be promoted soon."

"I do hope the best for them, Lorrnoke."

The hand that hold his tightened. "That's really close, Zala. I can't believe your team lost only by one and a half on accuracy score," the colonel's eyes glinted mischievously for a mere seconds, than, "though it couldn't be helped that my team's less on guard than the usual."

"Well, that's too bad," Athrun let go of the colonel's hand, "because in our training day we're taught that the third basic principle is to never underestimate our enemy."

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On the evaluation session in his quarter later, he allowed his students to express their thought of the simulation and only commented after they were finished. After that, he asked Rey for a little more time. The boy had the highest individual score in the simulation, after all.

"You're not satisfied with the result."

The boy nodded.

"Why?"

"Because we could do better than that."

"_You_ could, you mean."

Rey fidgeted a little, casting his eyes to Athrun's chin. "Yes."

Athrun half-smirked at that. "Why do you join the Air Force, Rey?" He was once asked the same thing, and he mildly wondered if his answer back then were also his students' answer.

"Pardon me?"

"Your reason. I want to know your reason."

"I can't answer that."

He had anticipated that response and knew there was no good in forcing his student to answer. "That's alright. Oh, and once again, congratulation on the simulation."

"Thank you."

"Well, that's all. Since tomorrow is our last day here, let's just make it your day off. Tell Shinn and Lunamaria for me, would you? We'll return to the Academy by evening tomorrow." Opening the door of his quarter, Athrun walked past Rey, the sound of his crutches on the floor loud in the empty corridor.

"Instructor."

That was the first time Rey had ever called him with that title. "Yes?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

He stopped walking, and his student stopped too, standing beside him. "Because, Rey, it's alright if you can't tell me your answer, but I won't let you have no answer for yourself. I can't."

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The tepid breeze of the evening air greeted him as he stepped on the deck. Despite all the time he had watched the sunset from this familiar deck, he never got bored of it. Sunsets were especially beautiful to behold on the ocean, and he almost laughed at himself for wanting to watch it together with a blond girl he just had met again yesterday.

Before the railing, he saw a familiar back.

"Hey."

Shinn looked startled for a moment, then, "Si—Athrun."

He did not like this uncomfortable silent, but he knew that Shinn was still angry about the incident on the simulation room yesterday.

"You've done great."

"I—thank you."

And they returned to the deafening silence.

"What did you think of the simulation?"

Frowning, Shinn turned to face his instructor as Athrun leaned on the railing. "Don't start to go all kind on me, Athrun. No one—I repeat _no one_—ever messes with me and gets away with it—especially when I don't know why I get it."

He was more than happy to counter Shinn's acidic remark. "Why, Shinn, I never know you're more on the power's side than on the truth's side."

"So I'm hit because of my wrongdoing. Alright. That I understand. But you never told me my mistake."

"That's why I told you you'd prefer power to truth."

"What?"

"Why did you join the Air Force?"

"Don't change the topi—"

"Just answer me. This _is_ a respective order from your superior." He did not mention that previously he had let Rey off without answering the same question.

"I—" Shinn paused, his gaze back on the limitless ocean. "...Because I want to be strong, I guess."

"Care to tell me?"

The boy's story was much like the history of his being Shinn Asuka. Athrun did not know that the two of them shared a thread from their past; the Anatolia Battle. That battle was the turning point of both their lives.

Shinn lost his entire family because of that battle.

"Growing up in an orphanage, I didn't even know what to live for. I even reached the point when I was so fed up with life I didn't want to think about anything anymore."

It was then when Athrun realized that they both had experienced a sore feeling Cagalli had once called the guilt of being a survivor.

Breathing shakily, Athrun closed his eyes. Somehow he could hear Shinn's unspoken words. '_It's supposed to be your duty as a soldier to protect the people of your country. Why didn't you come to my rescue at that time? Why did you let them die?_'

"The Red Baron's my childhood hero, you know," Shinn mumbled quietly, looking a bit sheepish, and that was the first time Athrun had seen him like that. "After the Anatolia Battle, I saw your hospital release picture on the news—what—three years ago or so and thought to myself that you're so strong." He glanced briefly at the exoskeleton gadget on Athrun's legs. "I mean, you're the man who's once the youngest admiral in the military history, who'd a bright future in his hand and suddenly lost everything in a blink of a second. Had I been you, I wouldn't know how to... go on."

_Not this again_.

"That's when I decided that I've enough. I've suffered enough. If you could do it, why can't I? It's not like I have to mourn for my losses for the rest of my life."

Noticing how Shinn's grip on the railing tightened and how his entire body tensing up, he realized that it was very difficult for the boy to spill his heart out like this. After all, one did not go around easily admitting that one possessed a troubled heart within.

He appreciated it greatly.

"I happened to think like that, too, Shinn," Athrun said, having nothing less to say than that. His past was but a memory he preferred not to talk about out of the blue. "I had my days when I always thought that had I been stronger, I didn't have to be lost; I didn't have to endure this kind of life."

"Saying that feels like you're admitting you're weak."

"Maybe I am," he uttered. "Don't you think about the same thing? That's why you want to be strong." Athrun met Shinn's eyes and found the naked pain there. "It's alright to think like that once in a while, but being strong means more than having a hold of a gun." He had seen young men who thought that once they possessed a gun, they were powerful. It was not an alien idea to him, of course, because he realized that power tended to corrupt and absolute power tended to corrupt absolutely. "If you think like that, then your strength means nothing. It means you're stupid, and you won't get anything from it. But," he paused, knowing that Shinn would understand his impulse-based attitude yesterday, "if you do realize the real essence of being strong, you're a great soldier."

That was why he treasured the motto of the Red, Loyalty and Integrity, deep inside his heart. It was more than just empty words for him; it meant his belief and even maybe the way he lived his life.

His student did not say anything in response, until, "This is weird, don't you think so? Back then we're ready to sock each other's gut hard, and now I'm telling you this. I just don't get it."

"And I never thought I'd have this kind of talk with you myself." A small smile now was on his lips. "Are we on a better term now?"

The boy blushed immediately and stuttered, "I—what's that—you—I'm not going to change my way of thinking!"

"I didn't ask you to."

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry either."

"I'm fine with that."

Tormented at his inability to retort back, Shinn wisely shut his mouth up, still blushing.

Athrun let go of one of his crutches to pat the boy on his back. "That's it, kiddo."

"I'm not a ki—"

"Colonel Lorrnoke said he'd be looking forward to see you in his squadron soon, and I'd be lying to say I don't think the same way."

"...I don't want it."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to be in the Phantom Pain." The boy straightened to look at him in the eyes, suddenly looked more mature than ever. "I'm here to be a Red."

The words were said firmly and full of self-measurement. '_I want to be a Red_.' It was his answer back then, and the real meaning went beyond word, just like the Red's motto.

Turning around so that now his back was against the railing, he could not help the chuckle. Shinn's answer sounded childish and silly, but he did not hate the idea of sharing his belief.

The boy grumbled, annoyed. "What're you laughing at?"

"Oh, nothing."

"If it's so, excuse me then."

"Oh, you're very welcome."

Barely walking five steps from him, Shinn suddenly brought himself to a standstill. At Athrun's wondering expression, he promptly made a very formal military salutation.

Recovering quickly from his shock—since it was the very first time Shinn did such a thing of his own accord, Athrun returned the salutation with another brief one. It was Shinn's telling him his appreciation and his divulging that he acted on impulse yesterday. No words were needed to convey their intention.

As he lowered his hand down and Shinn's back lost behind the deck's entrance door, he wondered how such a simple action, a common one in the military context, really meant so much at that time.

He just did not want some things to change.

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"Your student?"

He did not realize he had been staring at his right hand until Cagalli's voice fell on his ears. "Yes."

She stood beside him now.

"What?" Watching her watch him, he did not know where to begin talking.

"What?"

"Well, it's only natural you speak first."

"No. This time I'll pass the initiative to you."

Then they grinned together.

"Sorry I couldn't talk much last night—was on duty."

"That's alright. Lieutenant Maddock wouldn't let me escape from the celebration either."

He smiled. "So... how's life been treating you?"

"Other than the initiation for the new staff, life's been good to me."

"Hm."

"You?"

"Someone said it's a luck I return not as an enemy."

"Hmm. That reminds me of a certain someone," she teased, reminding Athrun on the first day they knew each other. She mimicked Athrun's voice and posture as she said, "'I'm not someone you'd be pleased to have as an enemy. (2)' Remember?"

"Hey, I told you to forget it." Smiling a bit wider, he waved his hand offhandedly. _Oh goodness. Now I _do_ think I miss those days_.

Cagalli shifted on his feet, her arm now brushing his. Maybe it was the feel of skin on skin, or maybe it was that the short-sleeved uniform he wore did little against the ocean wind, but he did shiver.

"Oh, and I saw your students' team-tag yesterday. They're good—it's just an unfortunate kick they didn't stomp on the Phantom Pain's ass." She poked on the nametag on his chest. "This is the first time I've seen you on uniform, you know. I'm glad you still fit it."

He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. "I've grown up in it."

"That I know," she muttered, then turned serious. "But this," she reached out to rub on the frown between his brows, "I don't think I know."

Her fingers were warm, and he missed the feeling immediately right after she pulled back her hand. "Like I've said, I'm on duty."

"Are you... happy?"

He raised his eyebrows, asking without words.

"Because, you know, I'll be there in case you maybe have the urge to have a word or two." She hurriedly added, "Just in case, just in case."

He contemplated his next words, then, "You're right. I currently need you. Your listening, I mean." He did not know why he was clarifying that point, however.

"Shoot."

Amused, he smiled again. "Do you have to be that blatant as always?"

"Back in school, my highest mark in my drama class was only a C plus."

"Oh?"

"I... have heard the rumour about what happens in the military."

Sometimes he wondered what would happen if Cagalli was less perceptive. "And?"

"I don't know for sure, but I think maybe you, more or less, are affected by the rumour." She narrowed her eyes, inquiring and all caring. "Are you?"

"I'm not an active military member anymore, Cagalli."

"You're but all."

There was no way he could play hide and seek with her. It was not like he did not want to talk about this, knowing that she was an outsider in the ring of the military business, but this was a crossroad he did not feel like standing at in the road of his life.

"I was asked to decide my stand," he finally said. "And I feel like cutting some of my legs just like what the owl suggested." She flinched at his chosen words. _Ah. Wrong words_. He knew that his disability was a taboo subject to bring up. "Didn't mean anything bad, though."

"They're..." she let her words hang fallibly in the air, knowing that he would realized that she was referring to his disability.

"I'm sorry I've never told you before. Since it's not like I can't move my legs at all, they attached these gadgets to me." It felt strange to confess how he could only feel his legs from waist to knee with only the barest hint of remorse, but since the person he talked to was Cagalli, he did not wonder why. "Hey, come on. Don't give me that kind of face. You know it's hard to wander around the Academy in a wheelchair. With these gadgets, it's... more bearable."

The truth was he actually wanted to say, '_I don't need any pity more than I've already got._' He did not think he needed to say it aloud, though, because she would be able to catch the meaning on her own.

She smiled, though a bit unevenly. "I never doubt you can make it."

"I know." _Because all these years I've grown accustomed to you, I know you'll always have a trust in me_.

Cagalli's biggest strength was in her ability to trust him, and he found his stand by holding on to her just like that. Now that he was at the crossroad of his life once again, he wanted to reassure his hold. No matter how tempted he was lately to abide by the owl's policy, she would remind him to always listen to his heart.

Truth be told, sometimes he was also tempted to reach for her beyond the present line between them.

What he never suspected before was that she had the courage to simply bend forward and lean her head on his arm.

"C-Cagalli?"

With her head on his arm, he could only hear her words. "Don't say anything."

"Why?" He had to all but stubbornly ask.

"Must you be stubborn as ever?" She sighed, the closeness so comforting and right. "Because, no matter how subtle it is compared to your strength, I want to at least be a support for you."

It was whispered softly, but he heard it clearer than the shrieks of the seagulls around them.

With how the situation in the military developed now, he was offered two options to take. He could follow to continue living as one of the Reds his way, or he could follow the trend to blur the line between dedication and ambition.

'_General Dullindal and his wing have the tendency to once again involve the military in practical politics—just like what we once did in the Anatolia affair. In the next election, he would surely steer the military faction in the parliament to opt for military political power. Yet, some of us honestly think we don't have to fall into the same deep pothole twice. We are _not_ donkeys._'

Colonel Gladys was right when she mentioned the Anatolia affair. Back then, it was a rash decision of the country to let the military handle the problem of reaffirming the border of the country. To put it simply, because all the lesson that the military learned was about a gun, it only knew how to use one. What was once a simple dispute between two neighbouring countries had turned into a full-scale conflict.

And he, one of the nation's top military members, had been expected to prove the Red's motto through the battle.

_Loyalty my ass. I'm an aid to my country, not to those old geezers on the top_.

That was what he had thought back then. Yet, he neither objected when the Air Force had his squadron as a bait for Squadron Jule (3) nor voiced out his thought.

With that, he led his men to their grave.

Maybe it was why Yzak was so bitter at that time in the cemetery. Whether it was called nostalgia or harbouring the post-power syndrome from the past, a certain wing in the military was half-hearted to just stay in the barrack.

'_I've been reported that some of our... _progressive_ officers have been mutated and promoted to new places that barely hold any influence to the process of decision making._'

It had been only three years, but he, in one way or another, felt so out of place in this supposedly familiar ground.

'_You know what's being asked from you, Athrun. I'm sorry I can't make this any easier for you, but you are needed._'

Needed. How sweet the word sounded contrary to the consequences it came with. He was needed because he was one of the little legacies of past glory the Red had, because one who held a control over the Red likely held a control over the military nevertheless. He was important because the Red was an important symbol of itself.

But no. _Big_ no.

For the sake of his red uniform, for the sake of a certain someone who once told him the story of the owl, he would not let anyone, anything dictate his life.

His life was _his_ to live.

"I'm not bitter, Cagalli," he whispered, feeling his eyes burning and hot, but he was still able to reign over his emotion. "I'm not."

It was the truth.

"Don't get it wrong, Athrun." His name on her lips made his inside tremble. "I want to support you because despite all the annoying remarks, all the complaints and sometimes the silences, you're the gentlest person I've ever known. I—oh crap—I'm just afraid that one day your gentleness will hurt you back in return."

She was rushing her sentences, but he still understood her message. However, he could not help but teasing her about it. "I'm afraid I can't get you."

"Don't I'm-afraid-I-can't-get-you me." She blushed, hard, to the root of her blond tresses. Even her ears were as flamingly red as her face. "I'm not repeating."

"Not even once? Not even if I say please?"

Lifting her head off his arm, she glared between the heavy tinges of red on her face. "My no _is_ no."

He laughed, feeling much better for the first time in the week. "I'm up to the challenge."

"Oh just—whatever." Stifling a soft smile that left him breathless, she stuffed a foot next to his crutch. "I'm serious about your strength, really. Now, now, listen, I do have a story to tell you. It's—"

He groaned in false mocking. "Don't tell me you have another colloquial fable to tell me."

"Who's it that said he's up to the challenge in less than a minute ago?"

Rolling his eyes would be like revealing the curiosity to listen to her story he had up his sleeve, so he chose to listen to her. Besides, the sparkles in her eyes told him more than what words could present.

"Once upon a time—"

"Do all the fairytales have to begin with that phrase?"

"You want me to continue or not?"

"Alright, alright. Please do continue, Miss Storyteller."

"Hm—where was I? Ah, yes. A monkey dropped a coconut upon a Sufi's head."

"Got to be hurt, right?"

She glared again. "Athrun, I warn you." Her elbow dug into his side, yet not hard enough to hurt. "The Sufi just calmly took the coconut, drank from it, ate its flesh and made a bowl out of it." Her eyes softened and her mouth curved into a heart-wrenching, sincere smile. "The story's just so Athrun-ish, isn't it?"

He had faced so many potholes on the road of his life, just like the Sufi had a coconut dropped upon his head. He had experienced and endured many unpleasant things in his life even till now. He had just never realized the inner strength existed within him, waiting to be recognized.

_You're strong, Athrun, because no matter how harsh life's for you, how hard the coconut hits your head, how bitter the critics rub up the wrong way on you, you'd always look at them in the eyes_.

Though that was left unsaid, he heard her by heart.

This girl was beyond every kind of people he had ever known.

"Athrun!!"

"Please?" For once, he forgot about his crutches, clattering down on the deck floor, and just let her support him, just like she had done all this time—and would always do in the future.

"B-b-but! But people will see!"

"That's fine with me," he whispered, his voice on the edge of coarseness. He would not cry. He would not cry. He would not cry just like he would not let go of her hand that he used to pull her completely close to him, his fingers slipping through hers. Their hands fit each other's, giddily warm and complete and just perfect. "I miss being on the top of the list of gossiping subjects anyway."

"...You're an utter sap." Yet, she did nothing to free herself from his arms, her cheek on his chest and his chin on the crown of her head. "I swear it."

"Thank you."

_Thank you, Life, for criticising me_.

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(1) Pugachev's Cobra is a famous snake-like manoeuvre done by Sukhoi series, first did by Russian pilot Pugachev with his Sukhoi Su-29. A jet takes a sudden stop, then moves until its nose reach a 90-degrees position from horizontal position, but don't imagine a _Tennis no Ohjisama_'s snake shoot here. May I remind you that this is an AU fic; so I think the closer the situation to the real life, the better.

(2) _The Owl Policy_, second chapter, on their first dinner together.

(3) _The Owl Policy_, first chapter, on Athrun's record from the Veteran Service.


	5. Chapter 4A

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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**First Half of the Last Part of Four**

"I _am_ your superior, and you are to report to me about each and every single thing that happens to my men."

Athrun glanced up, finally, from the papers in his hand. Yzak was a good soldier and a responsible leader; he was serious and dedicated to his duty, but an enraged Yzak meant a real pain in the neck. For a person who had known Yzak for years as a comrade and rival, Athrun could discern when the silver-haired man was angry for the sake of his men's lives, or when he was angry simply because his subordinate had conducted an improper act according to military tenets. Now, Athrun could see, he was angry because of both.

"Zala!"

"I can hear you clearly. There's no need to raise your voice, Colonel."

A hand slammed down on his desk—hard.

"Don't fucking play with me, Zala. No one told me about what _my_ men had done in the Goddess, and now a letter from Gibraltar is on my desk, asking me to explain about things I barely know about. Just what on earth did you think you were doing?"

"Nothing. Just letting _your_ men do some exercises and kick some ass. Trust me, they needed it." It was clear that he did not want to elaborate more on this subject, no matter how forceful Yzak could be.

Yzak simply fumed all the more. "You bastard are going with me to Gibraltar, too. That's an order from the minister of defence himself."

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Athrun knew the minister of defence far more closely than he wanted—or needed. He had encountered Clyne many times in his service to the military even before the man, barely fifty today, was to be the first civilian to hold his very important post on the running governmental term. Athrun even saved his life once in the Fontainebleau incident. Back then, he had been a major and Clyne a parliament member. Now that Athrun reckoned the time that had passed since then, it had been—what? Four years? Five years?

Yet, the man did not seem to have changed at all.

"My apologies for calling you here, Colonel."

"Sir. My term of service already ended, Sir. I am now an instructor in the academy."

The minister smiled slightly, his neatly trimmed moustache lifting up a little. "There's no need to get so formal with me, Zala. Please, have a seat." He waited until Athrun was seated in front of him before speaking further. "First of all, congratulations on the triumph of your team against the Phantom Pain."

"I've heard similar praises for these past three days, but there was no actual victory, Sir. It was only a simulation battle."

"A victory is still a victory, nonetheless." Clyne reached for his cigar box. "Cigar?"

"Thank you, Sir, but I don't smoke."

Small smile still on his lips, Clyne put his cigar box back in its place. "For a man as sharp as you, I don't think I'll need to use any empty words in order to begin, don't you think?" The minister leaned back into his own seat. "Now, have you been wondering why you were called here?"

No matter how accurate Athrun's guess concerning the reason was, he wanted to hear it from the minister himself. "It's surely not only to congratulate me, is it? If it doesn't bother you, I'd like hear it from you yourself."

The air gradually grew thick with the intensity of both men occupying the office. Clyne had a very serious expression on his face, while Athrun, looking as calm and composed as ever, was trying to appear impassive, wondering if the minister would suddenly snap and strangle him for taunting the highest man on the military hierarchy.

Sighing, Clyne smiled ruefully. "Not even Colonel Jule has that kind of wit."

_But of course. That's Jule for you. He's too dry to even crack a joke_. "Many people say I'm not good at joking, but I'll take your words as a compliment."

"I don't want you to think I've invited the wrong person, so I guess you have the right to know why you're here. Now, let me put it bluntly." Clyne leaned forward, both of his elbows supporting his body on the table. "Do you believe in the dual function of the military?"

Athrun was silent for a moment. "Is this a personal question of yours or an order for me to answer?"

"Please take it as you want."

"I—" Pausing, he took an even breath, then said, "honestly speaking, I don't believe it's the best thing for the military to get involved in at times like today's."

"Because?"

"Because of the reason that both you and I both realize, Sir."

"You mean to say," Clyne offered, "that we're not needed?"

"I never meant to put it _that_ way." Yet, he had realized the current state of affairs since the Anatolia Battle ended. Soldiers were an indispensable need in wartime, but the situation changed when times were peaceful. He himself had reflected that the limitation of military power was necessary. No soldier was supposed to raise a gun when people were now struggling more to rebuild their lives than battle one another, and the military had to step back and once again recline as the support behind the people. _We're to go back to the barracks and wait for the time we're needed once more. We're really not supposed to hold power greater than the inevitability_.

Clyne looked very tired, very weary, but he was still able to don a slight smile. "I'm very glad there's still a figure like you in the military."

"And you'll be even gladder if people who think like me stand shoulder to shoulder with you?"

"I'd be lying if I said no." The minister palmed his fist, as if praying, bowing his head a little. "When I asked for an advisor at the beginning of my term, Dullindal sent Jule to me. Still, I know Jule's definitely not satisfied with his newest post, because I know men like you two want to change the institution from inside.

"But even dedicated soldiers like you two are not enough."

Athrun leaned back in his seat, his head tilted up, looking at the top windowpane of Clyne's office. _From inside, eh? Funny. I'd never thought about it until now_.

"We sure need to apply pressure from outside, too, and I need more helpto do it. I won't be a hypocrite and not ask for help when I need it, Zala. I need your power.

"I need you to help me and change the current condition of things."

"What makes you think I'd give my hand?" he asked.

"What makes you think I'd let you go that easy?" Clyne asked back. "Look at your position now, Zala. If you still want to stay at the Academy as an instructor, I won't ask you to change your mind, but I could make you help me. Trust me, I _could_. But I won't do that. I just want you to lend a hand to make our ideals come true."

"Everybody's talking about ideals," Athrun mused out loud, smirking. "I don't mind the selfishness of having or living an ideal, but somehow it makes me sick."

"Your influence is much greater than you realize, Zala. Many of our young soldiers look up to you, and more than just a few want to be like you in some way. The old geezers at the top watch your every step because you're dangerous to them—to their seats, I mean. I can't stand to see you laze around, because, truth be told, you have the power to reform the military, the people, the nation!"

Athrun's smirk turned to a cynical snicker. "Lazing around, eh? Typical talk of a politician."

Clyne ignored the harsh bite of the man across the table. "With the way Dullindal's right wing gang handles things, definitely there's going to be dissatisfaction among our people. Not all of our problem is supposed to be solved by a gun, Zala, and I want to believe in that."

He needed time to think—no, he was _desperate_ for some time to think. "I—"

"I won't force you. Take your time to think about your answer, Zala. I'm glad I have the chance to talk with you." Though wearing a kind smile, it seemed that Clyne noticed and appreciated Athrun's discomfort and self-battle. "Anyway, I heard you've had a companion in the Goddess."

His tense shoulder relaxed a little as Clyne changed the focus of their talk, but he was a bit surprised with the new topic. "You know?"

"From my daughter."

"Oh." _How could I forget he's the father of Cagalli's best friend?_

"Nice, wasn't it?"

"It was."

Clyne's smile turned even kindlier, like a father's smile when he was watching his growing, mutinous son—though Athrun did not believe that the minister considered him his offspring. "You've changed, Zala. Still the proud soldier who saved my life in the past, I admit, but the you today—what—I don't know—softer? Gentler?"

"I'm not really changing, I think," he said at last, his voice soft and calm. "I'm just learning to accept the me I am today."

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He blinked twice as Dearka's face came into sight.

"Man, are you okay? You're... brooding."

Rubbing his temple, he sighed shortly. "I had a mild migraine attack this morning."

"Shouldn't you rest in the clinic now?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing big."

"Well, if you say so." Dearka threw him a look that said he did not believe Athrun one hundred percent. Slapping Athrun's arm with the map he held, Dearka said, "You and Za Burrel are called to General Dullindal's office."

Athrun turned to Dearka on his left, hand still on his temple. "Now?"

"Next year. Of course now."

_Just great_. Now his head really throbbed, drumming like hell. "I'll be there soon."

"Ooh, spooky." Dearka snickered at the suddenly gloomy expression on Athrun's face.

Normally it took an hour to drive from the Academy to the Military Headquarters, but with the way Rey drove the car, they reached the Headquarters only in a burst of thirty three minutes.

"Next time, remind me never to ask you to drive."

Rey just shrugged his shoulders, saying nothing.

Dullindal's office was the same size as Clyne's in Gibraltar, but it was pretty simple for a senior general who currently topped the military hierarchy and was the youngest general to ever be on the peak in the military history. On the wall, Athrun could see framed photographs, showing various stages of the general's life. Even one or two photographs of Rey were there. Athrun remembered the time he was awarded the Medal of Honour by the very general, when he was blind and still in a wheelchair, after his hospital release.

Feeling a bit melancholic, Athrun bowed his head for a moment as he waited for Dullindal's to break the ice.

"Fancy to see you two, gentleman," the general said. "Please, have a seat." He bade them sit on his sofa. "How's life for you two?"

"Sir. It's been great, Sir."

"Cut the formality, Rey. There's only the three of us here."

"Si—Gilbert."

Dullindal eyed Athrun, who sat next to Rey, quiet yet vigilant. "And you, Athrun?"

_He called me Athrun_, he noted. "I've been fine, General."

"The media's placed a lot of coverage on the military ever since your return to your ground. I'll take it that you're not bothered?"

"A little bit." _But it's not I who has the right to allow the press to come inside the Academy_.

"Rey, if you don't mind, I'd like to have tea with you after this. May I speak with Athrun alone for now?"

Rey nodded, and Athrun could not help but noticing the admiration and respect in his student's eyes towards the man across the low table. As the door closed behind Rey, Dullindal poured his full attention onto Athrun again.

"He's my beloved stepson, you know. I've raised him ever since his parents, those irresponsible bastards, abandoned him on my doorway." Dullindal laughed a little. "Never mind that. So! Does the life of an instructor suit you?"

"I'm doing well."

"And?"

"If possible, I want to stay for more than just a semester—but let's just wait to see this semester's result next month."

"Oh, I'm sure your class will do well. They've even gotten appraised by the Minister of Defence himself for kicking the Phantom Pain hard, haven't they?"

_Ah. We're on business, aren't we now?_ "They still have much to learn."

"But a compliment is a compliment." Dullindal poured dark, thick tea into their cups, the sweet smell of it at once filling the room. "As their instructor, you should be glad for them, shouldn't you?"

He did not answer, waiting for Dullindal's next lure.

"All right, Athrun, let's move on to the main issue."

"Which is?"

"I'm planning to move you to a new post." The general raised his own cup, looking at Athrun over the top of it. "To the Military Board for Parliament."

"The same place as Jule?"

Dullindal nodded.

Cagalli's face, all of a sudden, flashed inside his head. And her words. And her smile.

And a second later, he knew what he had to answer to Dullindal.

Dullindal's face darkened when he heard Athrun's answer, more likely because he was unprepared to have Athrun answer him so quickly, but for the sake of his own dignity, he still managed to appear collected. Athrun waited for a response from the general, certain that whatever he was offered, he would still be the one who decided his own way of life.

"Is it because of the Anatolia Battle?"

This was a question from the very man who had challenged him to trot into the front line of the Anatolia Battle back then, but it was his own decision that made him as he himself today. He had been aware of the gossip and speculations that said he and his squadron were sacrificed as bait back then, but, really, even if they were right, he had no one to blame but himself. It was his responsibility as a leader, and it was his own choice as a man.

"My decision, General," he said calmly, "has nothing to do with the past."

He could not run from his past, but he still had a life to live.

"Athrun," the general called when Athrun barely left his office, "you'll regret your choice."

"...Maybe."

"You know I won't let you stand in my way."

"With all respect, Sir, I wouldn't want to stand in your way either."

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The ride back to the Academy was tense and dead quiet. Rey, as usual, did not talk unless he was spoken to, but this time it was worse that Athrun could feel a kind of dark aura emitting from him. Even worse, they got trapped in an awful traffic jam and were not moving at all. _Someone, anyone, anything, please get me out of this mud pit_, he muttered silently, his elbow on the armrest with his chin supported on his fist.

"I'm here for someone."

Athrun raised his face and looked at his pupil. "Pardon me?"

"I joined the Red for someone," Rey clarified, his eyes still on the long row of cars ahead. "That's my answer to your question of why I joined the Air Force."

"Oh." Athrun lowered his hand to his lap. He had not guessed that Rey would give his answer now, but he had guessed what Rey's answer might be. "General Dullindal?"

"Surely you've guessed it from the beginning, haven't you?" Rey eyed him, his gaze sharper and colder than usual. "And I could guess pretty well what your stand is now."

"Could you?" Athrun uttered dryly.

"You know I will support the General, Athrun."

"Even though he might make mistakes?"

"You yourself say he _might_. It's not a guarantee," Rey retorted back. "I will make sure he makes no mistakes so that he could—would—become one of the greatest leaders ever. That's my reason—and my purpose forward."

Athrun surely had not thought about this. Clyne had talked about changing the military from the inside as well as from the outside; now that Rey brought up the talk about his stand, he began to marvel if Rey had actually thought about the same thing—to change from the inside, that was.

But this boy said it was his own will; he did it for himself.

That was enough for him.

"I'm glad." Athrun patted Rey's shoulder and let his hand remain there a little longer, feeling honestly proud of his student.

Rey let his instructor's hand linger on his shoulder for some times, saying nothing as the awkwardness between them melted. Athrun knew that it was really the time to let the younger generation come in front. It was time for himself to step back and encourage the younger to step forward.

"I'm glad that you have something you want to do." _Because without a purpose, your life means nothing. I want all of my students to have a reason for anything they do_.

_So that they won't repeat my mistake in the future_.

He had said before that he wanted to trust his students, and now he wondered if the line between being selfish and being selfless was actually thin now that he realised that he wanted to trust them not only for their own good; it was also for his own.

Reaching inside his pants pocket for his cell-phone, he pressed several numbers to get to his address book and soon Cagalli's name was on the display.

He decided to be selfish once again.

"Hello, Cagalli."

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	6. Chapter 4B

A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey

**A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: _Gundam SEED Destiny_ and its characters respectfully belong to Sunrise. The title is adapted from Anthony de Mello's _The Song of the Bird: A Coconut_. This is a non-profit work.

Notes: biggest love to Fledgling, the best beta and friend ever. Without her, there's no _A Coconut Thrown by a Monkey_. To those who read, I hope you've enjoyed your stay. To those who send feedback despite the lousiness of my writing every now and then, I humbly send you my deepest gratitude for all the time and attention you've spent for this fic. To those who felt uncomfortable after reading this fic, I extremely apologise for each and every mistake.

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_peace in the struggle_

_to find peace_

_comfort on the way_

_to comfort_

—_Fumbling Toward Ecstasy_, Sarah McLachlan

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**Last Part of Four**

His class' inauguration day came during the time he was preparing his answer to Clyne, and he could not help wondering if Dullindal would give him a spiteful glance and ban him from the inaugural ceremony. _If he does, I wonder who's the one holding a grudge now_, he thought sarcastically. Of course, no matter what the general might have done, he made sure he was going to be there when three of his students obtained the red uniform for the first time.

"The Red's changing, isn't it?" Dearka murmured softly, sitting beside him under the tent for the invited guests. "Congrats, Mr. Instructor. They've made it—and it's a big score for a new instructor."

Athrun just acknowledged him and his words with a small nod.

"Yzak is probably Not Happy right now, don't you think?" Dearka laughed a little, a wistful look on his face. "Now that Squadron Zala is replacing Squadron Jule..."

"Jule will learn to cope with it," Athrun said. "He will—because he's more hard-headed than anyone."

Two days ago, Yzak, as the current Head of the Academy, had announced gloomily that Squadron Jule was to return to the Air Force home base and that the newest graduate cadets would fill the empty post in Minerva as members of Squadron Zala. The hall was silent. Aside from the fact that it was an official release from an official officer, the news was startling. After all, who had thought that Squadron Jule, hero of the last battle the country had, and the one who had been in lead ever since Squadron Zala had been dismissed to the back up line, would be replaced?

Moreover, the man whose name was carried by the said returning squadron was only a temporary instructor in the academy.

And walked with crutches.

"Sir."

Athrun looked up to see Shinn standing proudly before him, his red uniform on, giving a formal military greeting.

"It's not like you to be so formal right now, Shinn. Anything I can help with?"

"Si—Athrun. I'd like to have a word or two with you—if that's okay." He eyed Dearka.

"Alright."

Athrun rose from his seat and reached for his crutches, following Shinn to a quieter corner not far from the tent. Watching his student walking in front of him, Athrun felt that the boy must be proud wearing the uniform, that was, for walking that confidently.

Sighing, he smiled knowingly. _It's really time to let the younger generation lead the way, isn't it? I know this, but it doesn't make me any less... sad._

Shinn stopped walking, turning to face him again. "I would like you to be my co-pilot in my first official flight."

He pretended that he did not hear. "Pardon me?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to be my co-pilot in my first official flight," the boy paraphrased, cheeks slightly flushing.

"Oh, I do mind." Athrun suddenly felt anger rise up. "What do you have in your mind, you squirt? I—"

"You still have your pilot license."

"I have no permit to do so."

"I could ask Colonel Jule for it."

"And he would hang you all fair and nice for merely asking."

"In fact, I already have the permit."

"You _what?_"

"Even the Head wouldn't be able to refuse if I came with an authentic autograph from the Minister of Defence himself."

Squinting his eyes, Athrun processed the information he had received. "...What else do you know?"

"I know the stuffs with the Minister and also about Rey."

When was the last time he had a flight? He could not remember—or maybe it was that he did not want to remember. "Thank you, but I can't accept it."

"Why?"

"I can't let myself do it."

"Do what? Have a flight again? Why?" The boy was all but insistent.

"...I can't do it." _Not like this_, he added silently.

The boy gripped his arm, hard enough to make him wince. "I don't remember you ever saying that word in class. Not even once."

"There's optimism, and there's limitation, Shinn." He tried to shrug away the hand on his arm, but Shinn tightened his hold. "First article of self-empowerment rules; know yourself. Knowing your limit is essential in and off the battlefield. Second article; know your personnel. Knowing your men—both their ability and inability—is another important aspect. You haven't forgotten it, have you? As your instructor, I'll be very disappointed if you have."

"I haven't forgotten. And I know what I'm asking from you."

"You. Are. Dumb." It was the first time he had called his student a name, but he was exasperated. And a little desperate, maybe.

"_Sir_," Shinn cut in swiftly, "please."

Deep in his heart, Athrun realized fully why he was angry. _What was a pilot_, Yzak once said, _if he's off the air?_ He had learnt to deal with his new life after that doomed accident, but letting go was never easier than talking about it. The bitterness. The pain. The fear. The pride. He could not just let them all go at once.

"I—"

"It's not only from me. Rey and Luna also ask you the same," Shinn explained. "So we'd be very glad to have you in our first official flight."

He could not escape anymore. "When?"

Shinn's face lightened up, as if he was granted something very priceless. "Two days from now, in the arms of the Goddess. I'll tell them ab—"

"I'm just asking when. Don't get too excited from such a trivial thing," he scowled.

Later, when he came back to sit beside Dearka, he noticed that his comrade looked like he was trying his best to hide a grin—and failed miserably.

"You know about this."

Hearing Athrun's declaring a statement instead of an accusation, Dearka let out the wide grin he had attempted to hide. "Yeah. Sorry."

"You, all of you, do what you like."

"Hey, it's for your own benefit."

"What benefit? I don't want it."

"But you do."

"No, I don't."

"Actually, you really want to smile right now, don't you, Athrun?"

"Shut up."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Cagalli choked in her coke.

Half wincing, Athrun hurriedly pulled a sheet of tissue and handed it to her. He had amused himself with some thoughts of what her reaction might be as he told her everything that had happened, everything he had thought about, but this was far from his imagination. To others, it might be considered gross, but he was truly grateful that Cagalli was being so sincere and open with him. "You alright?"

Flustered, Cagalli coughed few times, wiping her mouth with the tissue Athrun had given to her. "Sorry."

"That surprising?"

"_That_ surprising."

Athrun stroked her back slowly, trying, at least, to soothe her, even though he did not really know what to do. "Sorry."

"What for?"

"Well, I only happened to tell you today."

"That's fine—as long as you tell me." Cagalli crushed the used tissue in her palm and put it aside. "So?"

Athrun moved over, supporting his weight with his elbow on the table, facing Cagalli. "What do you think?" He tried to smile.

Cagalli narrowed her eyes. "...You don't have to do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"This." Blushing mildly, she traced the thin line of his lips with a finger. Athrun was quite taken aback at her boldness, but he did not mind it, really. After all, it was Cagalli. "Don't give me that fake smile. You don't have to smile in front of me if you don't feel like it."

His lips parted a bit, but no words came out except a small sigh.

"Athrun?"

_It's time to let go, Athrun. It's time to prove to yourself that you are going to be fine._

_And the decision is all yours_.

"Cagalli, can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

A visibly faint, almost sad smile graced his lips. "Why are you here?"

"Here?"

"With Minerva." _With me_—but he did not say it aloud.

"Well, I—" she played with the white, translucent straw on her milkshake, "I don't really have an answer, truth be told. But—aw, crap—if I have to really tell you—well—don't laugh, alright? It's you who gave me the inspiration."

"Me?"

Looking more flustered than ever, she scratched the back of her head shyly. "You know, Kira joined the National Research Office last month. He said that he's going to help to build the world anew. I don't really understand, though. I just grasped that there are many things needed to be done to heal this country."

"Heal the country, eh?" he repeated in a mumble. In his mind, the picture of Clyne, Dullindal, his superiors, his comrades, his late teammate and his students surged in. "I... am neither that patriotic nor devoted. I know that if the country slips on her feet now, a better future will just be a dream. Clyne—and I—realize that we soldiers are meant to fight. After the fight, we don't really have many choices. Retreat back quietly, or we'll be gotten rid of. That's what we have to choose until the time we're needed again."

"I can't disagree to that. It's cruel, but that's the way of the world." Cagalli looked pained as she drew the words from her mouth, as if she was trying very hard to avoid saying them.

"So be it that now I'm needed." Athrun sighed, relented. "After I'm not needed anymore, I have to step back—or be gotten rid of."

"My father once said soldiers never die; they just fade away. Lacus said the same thing, too. And—and then I thought of you." She let go of the straw, her hands now on her lap, her head bowed. "A good soldier does his best for the people of his country, and you're a good soldier. A great one, even. You don't fight a battle just because of false reasons, you don't raise your gun simply to do others harm, and I believe you're at the Academy because you don't want those young cadets to be mere murderers."

"I'm not that generous, Cagalli."

"I'm not done yet, alright? You love this country and its people, and that's what I love from you. You know it's dangerous when your love grows to duty, but you're doing your best not to let it happen. So... if there's anything in my power I can do, especially at a transitional time like now, I want to—well—at least lend a hand to soldiers like you.

"Soldiers have the people who love them, waiting at home, praying for their well-being. Especially pilots. It's their very lives they're risking to protect us back home. I guess I'm here because I want to make sure their planes, jets, machines are safe. Good devices ensure good conditions, don't you think?" Raising her face, she locked her eyes with his. Her small, low laughter faded to become only a slight smile upon her lips. "If you soldiers do all of this for us, at least I want to be your support."

_My... support_.

Really, he could say nothing to counter that.

Her answer, in his concern, was the most precious answer he had ever received.

"So, Mr. Red Baron, you don't have to worry about your squadron. I'll take care of them!"

"Hm."

"Now, I want to ask you something."

"A-ah," he stuttered for the first time he ever remembered, still not recovering from his amazement. "What?"

She drew in a deep breath, then, "Are you sure that's the only thing you want to ask me?"

"W-what?"

"I'm not stupid, Athrun."

Her equally nervous smile melted his own nervousness, though it was still present in his eyes. "You won't let me go with only this, will you?"

"Of course I won't."

"You're really something, Cagalli." He smiled. "You don't mind being _here_?"

She shook her head, slowly realizing what Athrun had truly wanted to ask her.

"Are you sure? If you walk with me, I'd make you walk slower. If you eat out with me, I'd make you set the sitting arrangement first. My salary per month is less than the amount an office worker gets, and I don't think I could afford annual holiday. I tend to let my mood get the better of me, I tend to be stubborn and I tend to fuss about things. You don't mind them all?"

"Well, you can cook, you have a nice taste of music, you're the best partner to discuss things, and you're definitely a good-looking man."

The tenseness in his profile started lessening slowly, the tautness in his body gone. "You're twenty-one and have many better futures to choose before you. I'm thirty and could have made the minister of defence my enemy." He would understand if she said the word he dreaded the most—the 'no' word, because he was not going to be greedy nonetheless.

"I love danger."

"I'm not the danger itself, but I could be dangerous."

"Just—" she paused, half frustrated and half hoping, "say what you want to say, please? Athrun?"

_This is it_.

"Cagalli, I—staywithme."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

He was an utter and total piece of crap. The dumbest, most idiotic man ever. It was not what he had intended to say, but somehow the idea of roses and a down-on-the-knees confession annoyed him to the very end. _Just great, Athrun Zala. And you call yourself a man. Unquestionably great_.

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, then another and another.

Athrun cringed at the sight, feeling as if someone had kneed him hard in the gut and left him out of breath. "Was it _that_ bad?" And he cringed even more as he saw her shoulders shake terribly. "Cagalli, I'm sorr—"

And she burst out in laughter.

Athrun blinked. "Cagalli?"

"Oh my God, Athrun," she panted between a laugh and a sob, clutching her stomach with both arms. "You should see your face. Never, not even in my dreams, did I think I'd finally have the chance to see you so clumsy and flustered. Oh God..."

"B-but—"

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she tried to stifle her laughter and sobs by hiding her face on the folds of his uniform. "You smell," she mumbled against his arm.

Athrun winced again. "Really? I didn't have the chance to take a bath earlier."

"No, it's not like that. You smell of sincerity and comfort," she saw him gaze down on her with so much emotion in his green eyes, "and I know you always will."

"That's—" He did not know what he wanted to say anymore.

"I'm the kind of person who believes we should decide our own future," she stated quietly. "And I know I'll choose my future with a man named Athrun Zala in it."

He pulled away a little to look at her in the eyes. His chest was tight, his throat dry and he was sure he could just explode right then and there. "You're serious."

"Aren't you?" Now it was in her eyes that doubt began to dawn. "Or are you just saying it because you feel dutiful or indebted towards me?"

When she was in doubt, she would blabber about everything and anything, but he had known it for a long time and accepted it as a part of her. "Why, dutiful? I must be the most idiotic man to do this out of duty, Cagalli. I—" he paused tersely, not knowing what to say. _So this is it, huh? It all comes down to this. Whatever_. "I meant it."

They stared at each other, trying to grasp each and every emotion that ebbed and flowed between them. His hand shook a little as he waited, and he knew she could feel the weak tremor since his sweaty palm was upon hers.

She broke the silence with a quiet chuckle. "What now?"

"I'm staring at you."

"Oh?"

"I'm going to stare and stare at you until you're all I see when I close my eyes."

Her head tilted. "The sun is going to set soon, Athrun. Want to see it?" She knew he loved to see the sun set.

"Alright, but I'm still going to stare at you until the sun sets." He recalled the memories of the sunset in the beach when she gave him her pendant and the sunset when they were in Minerva. It took all of his self-control not to cry out of bliss. "I'm going to collect and treasure every single moment with you until I no longer can."

"Sap."

"I know. You've told me before."

"Have I?" she mocked dryly, but her smile did not waver.

Closing his eyes, Athrun leaned closer, his cool lips grazing her forehead. He could feel her breath fall on his chin, and as his lips travelled lower down to the bridge of her nose, her eyelashes brushed against his cheek.

"Athrun."

His name. She simply made it sound so perfect, so loved.

He kissed her softly once, twice, lips against lips, and reluctantly he let go, staring at her again. Her cheeks tinged with fresh, radiant glow of happiness, and somehow Athrun thought that the silly idiom of butterflies fluttering inside one's stomach when one was happy was undoubtedly true.

"Athrun."

"...Stay?"

She pulled him down to drop a kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes again, his head tucked against the joint of her shoulder and neck.

"It's not like I need to leave you at anytime, you know."

"Hm."

"Shouldn't we go now to see the sunset?"

"Just... a little longer, alright?"

Once again, he allowed her to see the real Athrun Zala.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Are you sure?"

Athrun rose from his seat across the minister's table. "Yes, Sir. If it's possible, I'd like to stay as long as I can in the Academy."

Sighing, Clyne closed the open folder before him. "I had guessed you'd come and give me this kind of answer, but I'm still a little disappointed."

"I'm sorry if I can't live up to your expectations."

"Changing from the inside, eh?"

"I don't know," Athrun answered honestly. "Like I've said, I don't live by dwelling in the past. I also don't live merely for the future I'm unable to predict. I hate surprises, I hate politics, and I admit I still hate some of my losses."

"...Yet?"

"Yet... I have things I want to do."

It was silent for a while, then, "Zala?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"You said you're learning to deal with the new you. Have you seen your goal?"

"Sir," he heaved a breath, "what would you do if—just if—a monkey threw a coconut at you?"

"Wh—"

"I said if."

"I don't know—that's gotta hurt like hell? Well—what a question—maybe chase the monkey down and throw the coconut back at it?"

Athrun just smiled, patient and calm. "Someone said if that happened to me, I'd just take the coconut and make use of it. Eat it, drink its water and maybe use it as a bowl."

The minister took a few times to comprehend the man's words. "You sure are confident—I was right when I said that part of you hadn't changed at all."

"Perhaps. Who knows?"

"...You love this country a lot, don't you?"

"Someone also said it's dangerous when love turns into duty." Athrun almost laughed as he imagined Cagalli's reaction upon knowing that he had quoted several citations of hers, but now was not the right time to laugh. "I just don't want my love to turn into duty, Sir."

Clyne remained in his seat when Athrun closed the door of his office.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"I'll take it you've checked the entire condition of the jet?"

"Afraid?"

"I'm nervous—that I admit."

"Why, Athrun, I've never imagined I'd hear that kind of confession from an ace like the Baron himself."

"Shut up, Shinn. And don't do anything stupid."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Athrun knew that Cagalli was there when Shinn's jet arrived at the landing base in the arms of the Minerva, standing amidst the crowd next to the hangar. As the young pilot was congratulated by his peers and the staff, Athrun was more interested to talk with Cagalli right now but knew he had to face this crowd first.

"Your crutches, Ath—Sir." Lunamaria handed him his crutches as he lifted himself off his co-pilot seat using his hands.

"Thanks, Luna."

It was hard to walk down the stairs with crutches, but he managed it. Luna and Shinn walked beside him in case he might double over and lose his balance, but no, he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him fall. Some staff and even Talia applauded him as he came to the bottom of the stairs from Shinn's jet.

"A big hit, Zala." Talia reached out her hand, waiting for him to take it. "I'm going to miss you when you leave the Goddess and return to the Academy this evening."

"Don't start being so melancholic now, Colonel. I'm here just due to a request from my students."

Rey, standing close to Talia, sent him a formal military salutation. "Sir. Thank you, Sir. For coming, I mean."

He sent a salutation back before patting the boy on his shoulder. "I'll leave the team in your hands."

"Sir. Yes, Sir."

After some random talks with the staff, he finally had the chance to talk with Cagalli privately, safe from all ears and eyes.

"Congratulations," Cagalli offered.

"Give me your hand."

"Wh—"

"Just here." He pulled her right hand towards him abruptly, opening her palm and placing something on it

Cagalli blinked as she registered the small badge in the shape of a single white wing in her hand. "Athrun, it's—"

"My badge. From FAITH."

Her mouth fell ajar, wide, disbelieving. The badge was very precious to Athrun, she knew. It was the remembrance of his mightiest day as an ace, the remembrance of the time when he was a member of FAITH, the most honoured military body in the country. His pride as the Red. The proof of his dedication and love for the country.

And now that he trusted it to her, she felt like it was his way of saying that he was trusting his pride, his dedication, his love, his everything into her hands.

Who would believe her if she proclaimed that Athrun Zala was a romantic?

"I know it's not the right time, but I—" He was cut short as she threw herself at him, nearly making him tumble backwards if he had not balanced them both swiftly. "Cagalli!"

"I'll treasure it," she whispered, half choking, from the folds of his uniform. "Honest."

Smiling, he hugged her back before releasing himself. Placing a soft kiss on her cheek, he murmured against her ear, "That means a lot to me."

"Stop it. You're making me blush again."

"Oh, but I love seeing it."

"You're dead, Athrun. I'll make sure of it."

He laughed. "But you'll revive me back to life again."

She elbowed his side playfully. "Don't think too high of yourself, Baron. You cook tonight's dinner."

"Here? In the arms of the Goddess?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then what would I get in return, Miss Athha?"

"My companionship." _For now. And ever_.

"That I could deal with—" _That'll be the greatest gift ever, thank you._ "—Cagalli."

_I was once lost but now am found_.

_My name is Athrun Zala_.

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End file.
